Campfire Stories Halloween Competition!  

A tale of long ago
told by bards with wares
to sell
of a village far away
where they tarried
for a while
a village named Gilgamon

Unhallowed night it was
when mortals huddled
in uneasy slumber
listening to the wails
of the wind
as incantations to ancient gods
by witches to raise
their dead prince
 
Granted with a token
to leave the portal
of the underworld
unguarded for a sigh
through the cracks
through the door
with the prince
others follow

Thus leave this soul
a lover of a pining princess
whom in life was betrothed to him
others who joined his quest
there merged into the sky
to seek their earthly coils
that alas had rotted to the soil
they crawled on the mossy green
of the village of Gilgamon

Upon the green and fields
They were seeking warmth
In mortal coils
and around the village of Gilgamon
Lyssa visited and lay waste
on each inhabitants with two souls
that mortal husks could not contain
thus each one slowly sank
and spew out both souls

Nature claimed Gilgamon
homes and hearth stand
visited by howling wind
strewn with dead flowers
Monuments of emptiness
In a flowery glade in the woods
yet should you chance
to rest within
Sighs of sorrow
Be your lullaby.

This story goes back  
To before we had cracks
So those with no buts
Don't give it a fuss..
Just sit back ...hold tight
And be, in this story ?
You..just.. might.....
 
It all started one day.  
I think it was May ....or maybe it was..
Shit.. um...Bahh.. on with it then...
On a long forgotten coast  
Was a village we called, Shree Rhost
It was cherished the most by some .damn..
Green and Grey haired Ghost.
 
 
When the October breeze was just right..  
To take blankets at night .. we would gather the shrubs, to cut down on the bugs, and all gather round..  
The thing we called ..  Uggreat Light!!
Wed set up on the beach, right off UggUllgg street..  
 
Twas always the best time in town..
If it should ..be ..a town..... ..
All the villagers would come round  
And bring treats they had found..  
Some made ground up worms eyes .. they would surely be prized. As they could only be found , deep in the jungles of GwoaWound.  
 
As the people came in  
They would pick up a bin, to put their treets in ..for they knew that the ghost would probably get most.. so they'd  pack it with hay.. hay they carried all day got quite smelly least i say..inside pockets ,inside coats, even under those two things we like  most..err..umm.. getting back to the story..
 
Yes.. yes... back to the story...
 
As the Sun settled east ..
We would break out the feast..
I'd bring jelly and toast..my dear Cyndi helped the most.
There was "TIG the insane"he would bring the cocaine  
Followed by "Eli the Pain" he'd bring leather spoons made by  goons.
"Cool Jade" led.. her parade of around 20 that day, bringing rice mixed with Ghost. They had slain on the way .  
"Casketfly Coo" brought his crew. Carrying the goo the girls would drink mixed with skink from his sink..
"Silly Sibil the Gay" would chase down ..all who strayed and,slap any who... dared say nay ..to his yay.. he brought marsh mellons .. that day.
 
As that sun settled down  
On that brisk cool night . Was a god awful sight . A New ghost had slipped in . Wearing nothing that night! All the women ran in freight clenching pipe bags tight. Only one stayed to fight and help us that night ,Cool Jade! As us men stood to fight, we were caught by the site, of Belching goo purple and blue . It was burning us too..least we knew that  damn night ..there would be more ghosts in sight.. was a one sided plight .. as we retreated thru night .. to the last ray of hope .. we all ran for the boat.. and set sail that night.. twas a three hour tour.. to the isle of  GaHure..we  took a wrong turn instead . And ran aground bumping heads .. as our ship began to sink .. there was an island to the right that was barely in sight. So we swam for its shore.
 
Upon reaching the Isle, was a sign in mud , these words written in blood . All Who Come here today better be ready to pray!! The Coco God is on his way!!! Just then Casket Fly Coo swam ashore and was hoping for whores.. still had his goo in his hand... as I was backing away I bumped into Sibil the Gay.. things were not going my way..  
 
 
Later  that day, as we were drying up our garbs.  Cool Jade still with her parade started singing an Old Shree Rhost song . Sure helped us all... just get along... just as they were finishing the Old song . A mast appeared on the horizon.. was it help?Was it the Coco god? .. no...it was that damn naked ghost, with his ghouls and our Roast we'd left on the coast..  he was shouting at  Jade
Cool Jade!! You fool!! You've Slain My dear Uncle Hallo!! I demand you swim here and get on to my  gallo!! Now all you stand back and let her go!!! Of course there was one of us that just had to say.. No!! Cyndi sneered .We will not let her go .. if you want your uncle back we already ate him! You can have him back once he's passed thru our cracks!! But you have no cracks !!..  the Ghost snapped back. Then I guess you CANT have him! My Dear Cyndi yelled back..
 
Their ship neared the shore we readied for the attack. They started belching purple and blue burning goo all over the place. They were shooting for Cool Jades FACE!!! After all ..she had ..started this all.. Just then I recalled.   Hey we still had worms eye left .. and nothing puts out a flame better than what comes out of a worms eye!! I ran to my Ween!! Thats what we called the bins .. that the women would try to stuff.. wait.. back to the story once again.. I grabbed my ween it was still packed . Pointing it at the ground the worms eye poured out .. I threw some at Cyndi . Whew ..her flame immediately died out..The others saw her satisfaction.  All the men immediately pulled out their weens and saved the women with a few good streams.. we then killed off the ghosts ..and the rest was toast..
 
We forever then called that night ..Hallo-Ween..
.  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

I had often heard my grandmother speak about ghosts and spirits that howled in the night, not just any other night but during Lemularia, where ghosts of the ancients came back to their old homes and want to return to the land of the living.
 
My sister Pandora and I loved to listen to the old tales but giggled about it after that. We found it absolutely funny to think of our old grandfather toddling back to life.
We lived with our  grandmother as our father a Roman Centurian had died gloriously in battle far away. He was the first batch of officers after the Marian reforms initiated by Gaius Marius. He had headed a batch of 100 land soldiers, but was beaten back by the barbarians at the border. We heard he died valiantly and gloriously.  Not that it was any consolation to our mother, Aelia.
 
She was a beautiful woman, who loved the Greek’s finer arts and way of life. That was why she named my younger sister Pandora, as she was fair and beautiful. I was stuck with the common name of Grace, as I was dark and sturdy. My mother thought I looked more like my father, while Pandora favoured her.
 
Anyway, my mother was heavy with child when she heard about my father’s death. She was not able to take this, and slowly sickened. She died during childbirth, calling my father’s name, as she breathed her last. Our tears were not enough to make her stay.
 
Our brother, whom we called Gaius, died soon after. So Pandora and I were packed off to live with our grandmother, also widowed by a war. We grew up with her, in a cottage, tending sheep and the wheat, barley, grapes and olives with our many uncles, aunts and cousins who lived around the farm.
 
Pandora and I were not supervised much by our grandmother, so we had freedom to run around the farm, helping or making a nuisance of ourselves.  
 
This was our life until one fine day, the Tiber overflowed and the farm was submerged. We escaped into higher ground and my family travelled far away into a piece of land away from the roads that crisscrossed Rome. It was a land where gigantic trees grew and lush grass carpeted the ground. It was strange to be away from the amenities of Rome and the older folks looked fearful.
 
Nevertheless, we started to ready the land for cultivation, as we were farmers and that was all we knew. It was a tough time for Pandora and I for we were used to the relatively relaxed lifestyle of the old rambling farm.  
 
One day, this world we created for ourselves, was turned upside down when spring turned to summer. We had forgotten Lemularia, and it came to us with a vengeance.  
 
That day, the night fell hard and heavy, the mists hung low, and the trees canopy seemed to knit together to hide the skies. Romulus’ had forgotten to appease Remus, and his minions came gleefully from beyond the portals to conquer the only place where the black beans were not strewn, for it was the custom to walk barefooted, and strew the beans over the shoulder chanting ‘Haec ego mitto; his redimo meque meosque fabis’ –   ‘These words I spake, I send these beans to redeem me and mine’.
 
My grandmother was ailing in bed, nigh to death as Pandora and I stared outside at the eerie light, neither night nor day. We shivered with fear and the cold that seemed to pervade the atmosphere.
 
To be continued…
 

There were booming and whooshing sounds from afar. It was as if the skies had opened up to all elements of the earth. There were cackling, keening, thousands of whispering voices and moans and groans. The cacophony of sounds seemed to seep into our beings, weakening our spirit, making us all helpless and terrified.

The people crowded into our main building, a circular enclosure, roofed and walled against the elements. It had withstand a cold winter, rain and sleet, and we hoped that it could withstand whatever was coming from the otherworld.

We were helpless. We did not know what to do. My grandmother whispered that we should have strewn the black beans around our house, circled it nine times and implored the other worldly beings to leave us alone. We forgot, we didn’t even have the beans. We were so focused on our wheat and barley, our celery, parsnips, artichokes, beets and onions. We didn’t have beans.

Our common building shook as the otherworldly beings landed on the ground. As they stood on terra firma, they seemed to gather the energy around them and strengthen their forms. They looked almost tangible. We looked on in horror at their half formed faces, their elongated green limbs and their gaits. They didn’t look human and yet we knew that they were the evil souls of the ancient, come to reclaim their life.

The seal that Romulus stamped on the door of Remus portal was broken; the dead brother came back for vengeance with his minions.

Pandora and I were at our grandmother’s bedside, holding her hands to comfort her and ourselves. We didn’t know what to do and in fact, we were just waiting to die or be possessed by the evil spirits around us.

“What shall we do grandma, what shall we do?” I whimpered, scared out of my wits. I felt Pandora shiver besides me, and I felt her fear.

“Call Orcus…get Orcus, you must consult him…,” the old lady whispered.
Pandora and I looked at one another. We didn’t know who Orcus was and had never heard of him.

“Ask…ask…” she whispered.

We went out of her room to the main hall, where the farmers and their families huddled together at the fireplace. I looked around and met the eyes of one of the elders who motioned to us to come nearer.

“How is your grandmother?” the elder, Julius asked.

“She is fading fast. She asked us to look for Orcus…but we don’t know who he is.”

Julius went pale and looked at his hands, answering, “That’s an impossible task. He lives beyond this forest towards the North. It is but a day journey, but dangerous under the circumstances …he is the high priest dedicated to Romulus, he can help but getting to him is impossible.”

“We will go,” I blurted out, and immediately regretted it. Who could withstand the evil that was lurking around us? The gold box outside the building containing sulphur to repel evil would soon be not strong enough to ward off the howling spirits, as they congregated on the field before our hall.

But we had to do something, even though we were farmers, Pandora and I were still daughters of a proud Roman soldier, a centurion no less and we didn’t want to die as cowards cowering behind sacks of wheat.

“I will go with you,” someone said, very calmly.

One of our cousins stood tall and determined, Ameria. Her long hair of burnished gold piled on her head defied her station in life as a farmer’s daughter. Pandora and I stared at her and somehow, we felt like we could do it. We were greatly encouraged.

To be continued….